Boneyard
by Elmrada
Summary: One day after work, Jack comes home with a surprise for Rose. Even after twelve years, this man still knows how to make her feel young again. One-shot.


Boneyard

_June 20th, 1924_  
_Olympia, Washington_

Rose was knelt down in the garden behind her house, spreading mulch across the damp soil of the flowerbed. She was smiling to herself, feeling content. She glanced fleetingly to the sky to see gray clouds on the horizon, but otherwise the sun kept shining. Rose was certain it wouldn't rain until evening began, as usual, so she had plenty of time to tend to her garden.

As she continued working, with dirt getting caught under her nails, her mind wandered towards her husband, Jack. He had gone to work as normal that morning. He was a Printer for the Olympia Times, but he was due home more than an hour ago. Rose didn't let herself worry much. The past twelve years with Jack had been solid, completely defined by trust and expectability. She figured whatever he was doing was explainable and that he had good reason as to not warn her beforehand. Jack still had that adventurous spirit he had over a decade ago. Rose assumed his attention had been caught and redirected on his way home. It was Friday, afterall, and neither of them had to get up early the next day. Rose clapped her hands together and reached for a small container beside her galvanized bucket. Her hands rubbed against something unpleasant, but she didn't think twice before she lifted a small amount of Ground Beetles from the container.

Rose grinned and watched the beetles scuffle around her palm, making a mad dash for her wrist. Rose lowered her hand to the flower bed and gave her hand a shake, dispersing the beetles amongst the many herbs that were beginning to bud in the soil. She watched the beetles climb beneath the canopy of leaves and over the uneven terrain of the flowerbeds. She smiled, still absolutely content, as she watched all parts of the garden. Everything and everyone in her garden had a purpose. And that made her very proud.

Rose stood and brushed the hem of her skirt off and looked around the patio with her dirty hands. She finally spotted the pitcher of water she had brought with her, sitting on the ground at the flower bed closest to the back door of the house, which had daffodils and tulips blooming in it. Rose crossed, her heels clacking on the cobblestone as she knelt and poured the water over her dirty hands, rubbing them back and forth. She flicked her hands and reached for the towel splayed across the garden table. Rose stood and let out a huff, looking around the freshly tended garden that bordered the back patio. She then gazed out towards the rest of their yard that was dotted with tall cedar trees.

Rose decided to head inside. She had to get dinner in the oven. She was curious if Jack had ever come home. She figured he would have found her out back by now. Rose stepped through the french doors, pulling it closed behind her and looked around their quiet dim-lit house. Jack was not in the living room and beyond that, she could see he wasn't in the office. She turned left through an archway and paused at the kitchen island, setting her palms against the cool granite countertops. She knitted her eyebrows together and began to seriously wonder where Jack was as the clock ticked closer to six. Rose ran her hand along the edge of the counter as she went to the fridge and pulled the prepped and saturating chicken roast from the fridge, walking it to the gas oven and tossing it in. She then distracted herself by making a garden salad in a big yellow bowl, using fresh herbs from her own garden. Rose then set it into the fridge to chill and looked towards the clock above the archway again. It was after six o'clock now.

Rose poured herself a glass of wine, the sound of the wine bottle to the counter echoing through the quiet house. Jack and Rose lived all by themselves. They had never had children. It certainly hadn't been on purpose. Though their love life certainly had never slowed down, his hands were still magnetically attracted to her, she simply had never fallen pregnant. The doctor's had no answers, only head scratching responses. Rose was perceived as perfectly healthy and functionable, but still, a child did not blossom in her. The thought may have bothered Rose ten years ago, maybe even more so during Jack's absence while he served in France during the Great War, but today, Rose didn't give it another fleeting thought. She was happy to just have Jack. They made a great team together.

Rose topped her glass off and wandered through the kitchen archway to their comfy little living room. The walls were lined with bookshelves, each one jammed packed. In the center of the room were big comfy love seats, couches, chaise loungers, side tables, and many rugs running askew over the border of the next. It was one of her favorite places to curl up with a book and a glass of wine. But in that moment, she simply wanted to sink into the cushions and drink, relishing that the next two days she would have to spend with Jack completely.

Rose was beginning to wonder where Jack had really gotten off to that evening. It was very unlike him to be late and even more unlike him to not call. Rose glanced towards the grandfather clock by the back door. The chicken would be ready in the next hour. If she had to cook it any longer, it would grow dry and would be a waste of food. Rose sighed, hoping that Jack was alright, and continued sipping on her moscato.

Her mind wandered away from her as she began to think on the last twelve years. A lot had changed, but not her and Jack. He still had his boyishly layered blonde hair, though it was beginning to slip into a more ashen color with age. They still felt madly in love as ever. Rose's cheeks radiated warmly as she recalled the way Jack made her feel so young and alive. But other things had drastically changed. Like their money situation. They were comfortable. Rose used to proof-read for extra money, but Jack insisted she quit work and devote herself to full-time writing. He had worked himself up in the newspaper business and they were doing quite well for themselves. It made Rose smirk, thinking about everyone who had ever doubted him. Being with Jack always made her triumphant. She had seen something inside of him that everyone else neglected.

Ruth had passed away in 1918 due to complications with her health. She faced issues with vertigo, was prone to colds and fatigue. Rose hadn't spoken to her mother again after the _Titanic_. She had allowed her to die thinking her own life had been extinguished, sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Rose didn't feel bad about it and Jack encouraged her to own her choices. Rose had been happily a Dawson since 1912 and she hadn't looked back.

She lowered her wine glass and inspected her pink lipstick smudge along the lip. She let out another sigh, propping her legs up on a velvet ottoman. Rose lolled her head back for a moment, growing bored, wishing Jack would come home and entertain her with office stories, jokes, and questions about what she wanted to do this weekend. Fleetingly, she glanced to the diamond ring Jack had given to her on their ten year anniversary. She grinned, at first, but her mind circled back to where on Earth could Jack possibly be?

That's when she heard a low rumbling. Every moment, it was growing even louder. Rose knit her eyebrows together and sat forward, looking over the back of the couch towards the front door, which had an oval window overlooking the porch. Rose couldn't identify what the noise was. She didn't think she had ever heard such a low, grunt-like, rhythmic humming before in her life. But it was so loud, it had to be just outside the house. Rose stood and burst through the front door, coming to the steps of the porch. She slowed herself when she saw Jack pulled in to the short driveway leading to the shed that he used as an art studio. Beside it was a car port with an old clunky car, in need of maintenance. But here Jack was sitting on a motorcycle!

"Jack!" Rose called, but he couldn't hear her nor was he looking at her. He was wearing clothes he hadn't left the house with, as well. He was wearing a dark brown leather coat and what looked to be a captain's hat, turned sideways on his windblown hair. Rose couldn't help but grin. It seemed he had had an adventure after work and she was curious to hear the whole story. Jack was looking to the handlebars, where he revved the engine, making it pop and growl, "Jack!" Rose called again, setting her wine glass on the railing and going down the stairs, waving her hand to catch his attention. When Jack saw her, he smiled lop-sidedly and leaned down, cutting the engine. Rose's ears were ringing as she approached Jack, who still remained on the motorcycle.

As she got closer, she noticed the bike wasn't in the best condition. The paint looked to have once been Maroon, but seemed to have been laid down and now was scratched and in the early stages of rusting. Because of the previous beatings it had, some parts of the frame were dented. The cover for the engine was completely missing, the two-cylinder machine in full view beside Jack's leg. The exhaust pipes no longer were shiny and looked mangled in some parts.

"Jack, what on earth is this?" Rose asked.

"Do you like it?" Jack grinned, kicking the stand out and getting off the bike. He put his hands on his hips and looked to Rose, "It's a 1920 Indian Powerplus."

"It's only four years old?" Rose peered in closer at the bike. She was able to see the crooked and rusty Indian badge along the gas tank, "It looks like it's older than us."

"Yeah," Jack laughed and sheepishly rubbed the nape of his neck, "the previous owner wrecked it."

"Where did you get it?" Rose asked, running her hands along the curved handlebars.

"An old grease monkey," Jack shrugged, "I pass his lot every day and he had this thing laid up against the fence today. It caught my eye, I don't know why. It's not the prettiest, but the engine is strong. Pretty sweet, huh? He said it was going to the boneyard."

"What's the boneyard?" Rose asked, still inspecting the bike.

"Apparently it's motorcycle-lingo for where bikes go to be dismantled."

"So... it's not safe enough?" Rose glanced towards him.

"No, no, it is," Jack nodded, "The owner just didn't want to put the effort into fixing it. But I do. I want to polish this bad-boy up and give it a new life."

"I don't know..." Rose hugged herself now and looked to Jack, "Have you ever ridden a motorbike before?"

"I have today," Jack nodded, his smile never wavering.

"What about a helmet... some protection? Gloves?" Rose asked, coming along the side of the bike to stand beside Jack, who was still admiring the machine, "You're so vulnerable on a bike. Even more so than in a car."

"You're just a worry-wart," Jack nudged her gently with his elbow, "Besides, the feeling when you're riding this thing is unimaginable, Rose. You're one with the road. You're moving fast, but you're still connected with nature. It's the perfect in between, honestly. Cars are so clunky and the gears are terrible. This thing shifts like butter."

"I still don't know," Rose shook her head, "It sounds dangerous, Jack."

"Let me take you for a ride," Jack grabbed her hands eagerly, "It will change your mind, I promise!"

"Well, first of all," Rose laughed, loving the warm feeling of Jack's palms tickling her soft skin, "I have dinner in the oven. Unless you want to waste a whole chicken-"

"Take it out. Let it dry," Jack said.

"Okay, the other problem is your bike only has one seat," Rose grinned, pointing to the motorcycle.

Jack smiled, too, "Way ahead of you. We aren't going far. Barely out of the neighborhood. You can sit in my lap!"

"Are you insane!" Rose broke into a laugh, shaking her head, "No protection, up the winding hills of our neighborhood!"

"Come on, Rose," Jack wrapped his arms around her slender body, pulling her against him. He dipped his head down, gently pecking her neck. He hadn't shaved for a few days and his stubble tickled her ferociously. She giggled in his arms, melting at his touch like she had every day for the past twelve years, "Don't you trust me?" He whispered, his breath hot against her ear, making goosebumps pucker across her skin.

"It's not that I don't trust you," Rose shook her head, gripping his suspenders, "I don't trust other people to look twice for motorcycles."

"Did you hear this baby hum?" Jack nodded his head towards the awaiting bike, "It's gonna be snapping people's heads, trust me. Come on, please. Let me take you for a ride. It'll change your mind, I swear to you."

Rose sighed, smiling all the while. She looked to Jack with a gleam in her eye, trying to act exasperated with him, but he knew her all too well. She finally remembered the hat and coat and gave the collar a tug, "Where'd you get these? From the grease monkey, too?"

"Yeah, actually," Jack laughed, "Now, finish that glass of wine and take the chicken out of the oven. I'll get the engine warmed up!" And just like an excited child on his birthday, Jack whizzed over to his bike, pressing his hands to his new favorite toy.

Rose watched him for a moment before she went back to the porch and took her time finishing her moscato. Jack was walking around the bike, tugging at it, as if he had the strength to straighten to metal out himself. She then went inside and turned the oven off, setting the chicken on top. She shrugged it off, however, because she hadn't put much effort into it and they would still have salad when they got home, if they were even hungry.

The moment Rose reappeared on the porch, Jack got onto the bike and kick started it. It took two times to get it to rev to life. His face lit up as he felt the vibration of the machine, humming, ticking, all in time. He waved anxiously for Rose to get over there. As she approached the bike, she didn't know what to expect. All she ever heard about motorbikes was that somebody had been killed on one. She didn't like to think about that happening to Jack. He seemed so eager, however. It made her happy to see. Jack leaned out to her, taking hold of her hand. He guided her across his lap on the front of the seat. She wrapped her arms around his torso.

"You're you can drive like this?" She asked over the engine. Jack simply nodded and pushed the stand up, wheeling the bike backwards. Rose already felt nervous as the bike tilted off the slope of the short drive onto the gravelly asphalt of the road.

"Hang on!" He shouted, a mischevious look in his eye as he shifted the bike and made the engine growl excitedly. Jack peeled out of place, bucking Rose back and forth. She stared ahead at the road coming at her. On a bike, they seemed to almost travel faster. Rose adjusted herself gently to be sitting up more straight, properly sitting in Jack's lap, with her arms terrifyingly wrapped around his neck now.

"Slow down! There's a curve!" Rose yelled.

"Trust me!" Was all he called back as he tilted into it. Rose's entire body tensed, pressing herself against Jack. Jack was laughing all the while, the thrill making him eat into the corner even more. They continued up-hill and Jack shifted the bike down, causing it to buck and climb more confidently. Rose's curls whipped around him, trailing after them as they took another curve. They came up behind a slow chugging Model T. Jack swerved into the oncoming lane and passed to Rose's suprise. The car honked profusely as Jack dodged back into the correct lane, kicking leaves up in his path, "Isn't this fun!?" Jack shouted over the engine and wind.

"This is _terrifying!_" Rose screeched, her eyes never leaving the path in front of them.

"Give into the stomach-wrenching feeling, Rose!" Jack shouted, shifting the bike and quieting the engine, "We are at the fun part. Remember the dip?"

Rose gasped at the thought of the large rolling hill at the end of their neighborhood. She saw the crest of it approaching. Jack's grin was ear to ear as they made it to the very top. Rose could distantly, over the treetops, see Olympia. They were fortunate to afford quiet spaced-out housing in the forest surrounding the city. She marveled at the sight before her heart leapt to her throat as they descended. Jack kicked his legs out to the side and howled with giddiness. The road was being swallowed up below them faster and faster. Rose felt her entire body tingle as they shot like a bullet down the hill. She began laughing, to her surprise.

"Havin' fun, I see!" Jack said. Rose now dared herself to tear her eyes away from the road, looking to Jack.

"That was like the rollercoaster in Santa Monica!" She shouted back. Jack glanced to her fleetingly. He almost was mesmerized by her. Sitting in his lap on a fun bike was a girl with fire whipping around her head, grinning, pressing herself to him. Jack still couldn't help but think about what a lucky bastard he was, "Jack... this is amazing!"

"That's what I wanted to hear," Jack smiled and took a sharp right down a winding road, covered in shadows from the tall canopy of trees lining the way. Rose looked to all the trees around her, the leaves dancing past them. Jack was right. She was more connected with nature. She felt like she was simply gliding on air. Rose's arms loosened around Jack's neck and she held her hand out, allowing leaves to whip past her as they rained down from the trees. The feeling was phenomenal as she glanced at the blurry passing street, only a foot away from her. It was Rose's turn to howl with excitement as they steamed down the street.

Rose turned to Jack intently, gripping at his neck excitedly, "Will you teach me how to drive the motorcycle, Jack?"

Jack grinned, looking to her for a moment, nodding, "Yeah, o'course!"

"I love you!" Rose began planting kisses all over his cheekbones, his forehead, his neck, leaving pink stains behind. Jack's entire body felt hot as he focused on the road in front of him. Rose's lips felt so cool and enticing against his skin. Her hands ran through his windblown hair tenderly as she travelled up to his ear, nibbling on it gently. Jack slowly pulled the bike over. They bobbed up and down on the seat as he rolled into the grass, planting his feet. He left the engine on and grumbled beneath them lowly.

Jack wrapped his arms around Rose's body, trying to pull her even closer on the bike. His hands tingled from the vibration of the handlebars. He slowly reached forward, carressing her cheek, drawing her towards him. Their lips met passionately, urgently. His fingers twisted through her knotty windblown curls. They parted when some leaves tumbled down on them as the wind rustled the branches. They grinned at each other, lost in the other's eyes.

"I love you, too, darlin'," He whispered, making her heart melt.

"Let's keep going," She urged him, tugging on his suspenders playfully. Rose leaned in closer to Jack, nudging her forehead to his.

"Where to, Miss," He grinned lop-sidedly. Rose's slender fingers came up to gently rub over his prickly jaw.

"Take me to the stars on this motorcycle," She whispered.

Jack pecked her on the lips and reached forward, revving the engine. Rose laughed with delight and wrapped her arms around Jack's shoulders as he threw a glance behind them and peeled out. His back tire dug into the mushy soil before it caught traction, bolting them forward. Rose smiled at the road with great enticement as it came flying at her. The motorcycle echoed through the valley as they continued down the road that they hoped led them to the stars.


End file.
